


Broken Mirrors

by fallenangel218



Category: NCIS
Genre: Angst, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-02
Updated: 2013-10-02
Packaged: 2017-12-28 05:36:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/988326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fallenangel218/pseuds/fallenangel218
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony is grieving for Jeanne.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Broken Mirrors

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: heavy angst, alcohol consumption, foul language

He stumbled into her apartment, instinctively kicking off his shoes. She hated it when he walked around with his shoes on. 

“Jeanne!” he shouted, dropping a brown bag onto the couch. “I know you’re here!” He stumbled toward the kitchen, expecting to find her. It was empty. He searched the bedroom and bathroom. 

Jeanne was not there. 

“Where the hell are you!” he shouted at the top of his lungs. He stormed back into the living room and snatched up the brown bag. He yanked out the bottle of Johnny Walker Blue inside it and opened it up. He sank to the floor next to the couch as he took a long swig. He leaned back against the couch and closed his eyes as the scotch burned his throat.

_He knocked slowly on her apartment door. He was still shaking from the explosion. He could feel tears running down his face as Jeanne opened her door._

_“Tony…”_

_He looked into her eyes, unable to control the tears._

_“I love you, Jeanne.”_

_He stepped in and pulled her into a passionate kiss._

His eyes flew open, and he took another swig of scotch. He looked down at the bottle, and furrowed his brow. When had half the bottle disappeared? Shrugging, he took another swig. 

_He knocked on her door, hoping to God that she’d let him in._

_“I hope you had a better day than I did, Ms. Jeanne Benoit,” Tony said into the closed door. He rapped again._

_“I’ve been thinking a lot about you lately. And I’m really, really trying to figure out a way to not screw this up.”_

_He waited for her to answer the door. When she didn’t, he turned and started down the hallway. A door opening behind him stopped him in his tracks._

_“Tony!”_

_He turned around to face Jeanne._

_“Hey. I thought you were sleeping._

_“I was.”_

_There was an awkward silence between them before she beckoned Tony into her apartment._

Tony downed the rest of the bottle, and pushed himself to his feet. All he could think about was what he said to her that day.

_I’m really, really trying to figure out a way to not screw this up._

Well, damn. That's all shot to hell, isn't it?

Tony looked down at the empty bottle in his hand. He could feel heated anger rising inside of him. He hurtled the bottle across the room. It shattered against the wall. 

He kept telling himself he’d been made… that he had no choice but to tell her… 

_Who am I kidding? This is all my fucking fault._

Anger surged through him. He swung his arm at an antique lamp on the end table next to him. It hit the floor and shattered into pieces. Still unsatisfied, Tony trashed the living room. He smashed pictures and threw figurines. He overturned the coffee table, breaking everything that lay on top of it. He stumbled toward the bedroom, intent on continuing his tirade there. He yanked her vanity on its side, smashing the jewelry box, and sending makeup all over the floor. The vanity mirror shattered upon impact with the carpeted floor. 

Tony stumbled backward as the mirror smashed, and fell to the carpet. A large shard of glass landed near his hand. He reached out and picked it up, intending to throw it across the room. He caught his own reflection in the piece of mirror, and stopped mid-throw.

He looked terrible.

He felt his hand start to tremble, and he dropped the shard. He could feel the pain burning inside, trying to get out. He pulled his knees up to his chest and buried his face in his knees as he started to cry.

_Damn it to hell…_

He didn’t hear the footsteps in the apartment until they were right on top of him. A hand touched his. It was gentle, but not feminine.

“Tony…”

McGee. 

_How did he find me? Oh yeah… like I need to ask._

Tony lifted his head. McGee was kneeling in front of him.

“Time to go home.” 

Tony shook his head as he felt Tim take him by the arm. 

“Come on.” 

He let Tim help him up, and leaned on him as they left the apartment behind.

**END**


End file.
